


Symptoms of ADHD in Ray Palmer

by SophiaCatherine



Series: Neurodivergent DCTV [7]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Gen, Ray Palmer has ADHD, neurodivergent character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 04:48:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14348280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophiaCatherine/pseuds/SophiaCatherine
Summary: Five aspects of ADHD that sometimes make Ray Palmer's life more difficult, and one that often makes it better.





	Symptoms of ADHD in Ray Palmer

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for my DCTV Neurodivergent Headcanons Month. Prompt by @nowwavingnotdrowning on tumblr, who asked for Ray Palmer with the lesser-known features of ADHD.
> 
> The structure of this fic is inspired by @bisexuallaurellance’s gorgeous gifset of [Laurel Lance + symptoms of borderline personality disorder](http://bisexuallaurellance.tumblr.com/post/172923544703/laurel-lance-symptoms-of-borderline-personality).

**1. _difficulty keeping quiet and speaking out of turn; blurting out responses and often interrupting others_**

Ray has never had a very good verbal filter. 

Okay, let’s rephrase that. Ray has always had a tendency to say every last thought that enters his head, the moment he has it, and consequences be damned.

It’s not that he actually _wants_ the consequences to be damned. In fact, he cares very much about the consequences. He really wishes he could think about those  _before_  the words come pouring out in interminable sentences regardless of the reactions of the poor person he’s talking at.

He didn’t  _mean_  to say, “But if you’d just let me take a look, I could fix it much faster,” to Mick when he was growling at the heat gun. (Result: Mick slamming the gun to the floor and stalking out of the cargo bay.)

He didn’t  _mean_  to say, “Wow, man - I can’t believe you never played any sports as a kid,” to Nate. (Result: a quiet and distant Nate for the rest of the day.)

And he definitely didn’t  _mean_  to say, “Ask Sara,” when they were all hanging out in the galley and Nate said flippantly - of Gary - “I’d quite like to arrange to have him murdered.” (Result: Sara turning a little bit grey and wandering off.)

So, yeah. Maybe if he could  _think_  before he flipping spoke every once in a while, he’d be a better friend. A better teammate. A better human being.

He tries to explain this to Wally over breakfast one day, as he’s standing over the coffee machine, watching it filter coffee way more slowly than a 22nd-century machine has any right to do.

And Wally... laughs. “You’re good, Ray,” he says. “I love how you say everything you think. It’s sweet. I always know what you’re thinking. And, let’s face it,” Wally adds, as he starts tucking into the biggest stack of pancakes Ray has ever seen, at not-quite-speedster speed, “I’m not exactly known for  _thinking things through_ before I rush in and say weird shit, myself.”

Drip, drip, drip, goes the coffee machine. Ray thinks.

After a minute, he snorts. “Well, yeah. You’re the one who told Zari that being a computer genius doesn’t make up for her terrible people skills.”

Wally shudders. “Don’t. She still isn’t talking to me.”

* * *

**2. _difficulty managing feelings; easily stressed; hypersensitivity to criticism_**

“I didn’t say you did the wrong thing!”

Nate is standing over the control panel, facing off against Sara on the other side.

The current argument is about how they should have dealt with the horde of ancient Brythonic barbarians that, not one hour ago, were invading 21st century New York.

Sara laughs humourlessly. “Oh come on, Nate. You know you’re just dying to point out the long list of mistakes the team made. Meaning, mistakes  _I_ made.”

“Guys,” Ray cuts in. He’s been standing off to the side, watching them with wary, flickering eyes. “Come on, Sara. Nate didn’t mean anything by it.”

Nate spins around to look at him. (Ray takes a step back.) “Could you  _not_  speak for me, bro? I know what I meant.”

Ray looks away from them both. He can feel tears threatening behind his eyes, just like always.

_Always such a cry baby, Raymond. Why can’t you be a strong boy like your brother?_

Ray’s hands do a nervous tap, tap, tap on the console.

“Don’t worry about it, Ray,” Sara’s saying. He didn’t catch what she said before that.

He swallows. Nate still looks ready to kill someone. Sara’s in full assassin mode, fighting stance and dangerous eyes.

And yet Ray finds himself  _still talking_ , forcing his trademark sunny tone out through a tight smile. “I just mean, there’s no point in arguing about this now. The horde’s defeated, go team, let’s have cake!”

Sara slams her hands down on the control panel and turns her glare on him. (Ray flinches.) “Oh good god, Raymond. When I need the ship’s morale officer, I’ll call you and you can sing one of your ridiculous songs or something. Right now I need to get through this debrief, so could you please fuck off?”

He leaves without a word, and cries in the bathroom for an hour.

Later, Sara finds him, tells him she’s sorry, drags him out, and practically force-feeds him gluten-free cake.

* * *

**3. _continually starting new tasks before finishing old ones; inability to focus or prioritise_**

He just has all these  _ideas_.

Sitting up in bed one morning, scribbling designs for shield upgrades for the Waverider based on the ATOM suit’s defenses, and working, and working, and this could change everything.

Abandoning the shield plans, that afternoon, because he’s got this awesome concept for medical tech that could do amazing things in Gideon’s med bay.

Working on that until the evening, when he’s suddenly consumed with the idea of a new way to detect time quakes, and running into the library waving the design above his head and hollering about it at a nonplussed Nate.

And that was interrupted by a mission later, and he, sort of… never picked it up again. Any of it.

 _Ideas_  do not  _success_  make, he tells himself, regularly.

And he’s certainly had some of that. Success, that is.

So it’s fine, that he leaves all these things unfinished.

Important things. Things that could make a difference to the world. Things that could save lives.

It’s fine, he says to himself, as he hides the designs for the shields and the medical tech and the time quake detector in a box under his bed marked ‘unfinished’, and clips the sides of the box shut. Clack, clack, clack.

It’s fine.

* * *

**4. _low self-esteem and sense of insecurity or underachievement_**

Some days he’s pretty sure he’s nothing but an overeducated overprivileged rich guy in a big, suit-shaped children’s toy that  _anyone_  could have built.

Not every day, though. Not since he joined the Waverider crew.

Maybe 30% of the days.

So. That’s getting better.

* * *

**5. _taking risks, often with little or no regard for personal safety; little or no sense of danger_**

“I just don’t understand,” Nate says.

He’s leaning on the wall of the med bay opposite Ray, who’s currently having his spine fixed.

His  _spine_.

He’s feeling oddly calm about it. It’s not like he can feel any pain at the moment, anyway. Or anything at all, really. 

“ _Dude_.” Oh right, Nate is still talking. “This is the third mission this month where you’ve gone all daredevil like this.”

Ray looks up hopefully. “Like the superhero?”

Nate makes a weird noise. “No, Ray. Not like the superhero. Like, running headlong into danger like you think you’re freaking immortal.” He blows out a forceful sigh, and fixes Ray with a stare. “Or... like you think your life’s not worth anything.” 

Ray shrugs. “I’m all good. Look.” He raises his arms and wiggles his fingers. “Hey! I’ve got feeling back in all my limbs now. Awesome.”

Nate turns around so he can bash his head against the wall. “I think I’m gonna get Sara and make her have this talk with you,” he says.

“Okay.” Ray shrugs again. He waves as Nate leaves the med bay, muttering as he goes.

“Dr Palmer,” comes Gideon’s voice, as soon as the room is empty.

Ray doesn’t answer for a minute, listening to the beeping of the machines.

“Yes, Gideon,” he sighs, eventually, knowing what’s coming.

“I, too, am concerned about your reckless behaviour. Are you aware that there was a good chance you could have died this time? If the crew had not intercepted the time pirates in time, your kidnappers could have done far worse to you than -”

“Thank you, Gideon,” he interrupts quietly. “I’m aware.”

He flexes his hands.

She doesn’t say anything else.

The machines beep, beep, beep in the background.

Ray closes his eyes.

* * *

**+1. _hyperfocus_**

“Come on, Ray,” Sara says.

She might sound like she’s giving orders, but he knows it’s her way of pushing him to be his best.

“Two minutes, Ray,” says Jax, keeping time on the computer terminal.

Ray is moving the pieces at lightning pace.  _Eat your hearts out, my speedster friends._

Across the room, at another workbench, Zari, Amaya and Nate are crowded around Stein.

In the centre of the room, Mick is holding up his own clock and a clipboard.

Jax looks at the other group, his face scrunched up in concern. “Crunch time, Ray,” he says.

Ray nods as fast as he’s moving pieces. “I am  _so_  almost there, Jax, you have no idea…”

His fingers fly across the colours. He can feel the neurons buzzing in his brain, making connections no one’s ever made before, finding patterns no one’s ever seen before.

Being the ATOM is an important thing, a heroic thing, a world-changing thing, and he wants to be good at it. But  _this_  - this is what he does best of all.

“Done!” he shouts, and slams down the Rubik’s cube.

“Time!” Mick yells, almost simultaneously with Ray. He nods at Ray. “One second off two minutes. You’re not breaking any world records, but - good!” He looks at his clipboard. “Round 3 to Team Eagle Scout. Makes it 2-1 to them. Sorry, Team Nuclear Meltdown. You’ll win the next academic triathlon.” He throws back his head and grins at Team Eagle Scout.

There’s a groan of defeat from Stein’s team, drowned out by the roar of victory from Ray’s.

Within seconds, though, Team Meltdown is hugging all the members of Team Scout.

Ray is  _beaming_.

“Well done, Raymond,” Amaya says with a smile, passing him a beer.

He sighs happily, picking up the Rubik’s cube to click, click, click the little cubes.

“Hey, Ray, did you hear me?” Nate is suddenly next to him.

He grins. “Not a word. Sorry.”

Nate snorts. “Still in the zone?”

“Little bit,” Ray shrugs. “Find me some coffee?”

Nate is out the door before he’s finished saying 'coffee’. “I’m on it!” he yells back.

Ray smiles, and picks up the Rubik’s cube again, half-listening to Martin arguing that he could have won if his team hadn’t kept distracting him.

**Author's Note:**

> Usual warning applies: I have ADHD, but I am only one person. My Ray-with-ADHD headcanons are likely to reflect my own experiences, but other people experience this neurodivergence differently.
> 
> Symptom descriptions taken from the [NHS website](https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/attention-deficit-hyperactivity-disorder-adhd/symptoms/) and [this article](https://www.helpguide.org/articles/add-adhd/adhd-attention-deficit-disorder-in-adults.htm), where you can find full lists, if you want. But don’t just read symptom lists, if you’re interested - talk to your friends who have ADHD as well! I’m always happy to yell about it on a hyperfocused special-interest level… _*grin*_
> 
> I love comments and always reply.
> 
> On tumblr [here](https://sophiainspace.tumblr.com/).


End file.
